


Eadu Rain

by whereismygarden



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:56:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereismygarden/pseuds/whereismygarden
Summary: Bodhi Rook is an Imperial pilot stationed to make supply runs back and forth from Eadu, a lonely base. He is not the only lonely, conflicted man on the planet.Or: how Galen Erso managed to find and trust an Imperial pilot willing to defect.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make sense of how Galen and Bodhi found each other and managed to indicate to each other that they were Rebellion sympathizers. Bodhi's last line is "This is for you, Galen," and that's...significant, at least to me.
> 
> Not much editing was done, let me know if I missed any typos.

Bodhi Rook was taking his shuttle down for the first time to Eadu. He’d been transferred here from Coruscant on the basis of being pretty good at atmospheric piloting, especially in poor weather. He wasn’t good enough to qualify for a fighter, not that he wanted to, but he did take pride in being able to set down big, ungainly shuttles without incident.

            He had two Stormtroopers sitting in the back seats, above the cargo. They talked to each other from time to time, voices distorted through their speakers. Bodhi couldn’t hear them that well, and they used so much slang that he couldn’t understand what he could hear. So functionally, it was just him and the shuttle, taking off from the crowded launchpads in Coruscant and a lightspeed course determined and assigned by a navigator. He took a fitful nap in the pilot’s seat, waking every so often at the buzzing feedback of the Stormtroopers’ helmet radios or a beep from the controls.

The cases that had been loaded into the cargo hold were hard-sided and seemed too small and few to merit their own shuttle and a pair of guards. Bodhi had never been to Eadu before. There were a few facilities, built since the rise of the Empire, but nearly everything had to be delivered, from foodstuffs to building material. Eadu was rock and water, and the rock didn’t yield ore plentiful or valuable enough to set up a mining operation. Bodhi put the contents of the cases from his mind as they dropped out of lightspeed in front of the white, slowly turning planet.

He had coordinates, but dropped carefully into the atmosphere: as the resistance of the air slowly increased, so did gravity, and piloting became something that required actual skill. Visibility dropped to nothing but different shades of grey and white as the atmosphere got thick enough for water clouds to form. Ice crystals collected on all the windows of the shuttle. Bodhi nudged the atmospheric thrusters and evened the shuttle out, falling at last through the belly of the clouds into the dark grey daylight that was, according to his brief, characteristic of Eadu. It was raining hard. He turned on the field of static that would clear his viewscreens of water, so he was looking through rainfall, not sheets of waters. That and the instruments made it easy enough to steer.

Down here, there was almost no wind. He flew the shuttle lower into the rock valley, keeping it above all but the highest spires of rock that stuck up like bristles on the back of the planet. Built onto and into a more sturdy outcropping was the facility, with a single long spar empty to land shuttles. Flanking the shuttle pad were metal-doored bays, no doubt housing personnel shuttles and fighters. 

“This is Cargo Shuttle C2967-E4, can we set down?” Bodhi radioed in. There was a click, and a somewhat bored voice said,

“E4, you’re clear to land. Your vessel will be boarded and inspected, then given further instructions.”

“Roger that.” Bodhi switched off the mouthpiece and descended as the spires thinned out abruptly, before the building. No doubt they had been knocked over in the initial blasting. There were marks in the canyon walls from flying rocks, not smoothed yet by Eadu’s constant rain.

Two people in dripping windbreakers and waterproofed pants of the type that pulled over other trousers boarded, bringing in a gust of rain and cold air. The fresh air smelled heavily of minerals, slightly acidic. It wasn’t the sweet air of heavily vegetated planets, nor the breathing smell of rainfall on dust. Bodhi inhaled through his nose, the scent of pure water and rock fixing itself in his sense-memory.

The Stormtroopers stood up and allowed Bodhi to open the door to the cargo hold. Once of the inspectors climbed down and pulled the first canister off its shelf. The lid released with a twist and a beep, and was pulled partially out to reveal a soft-lined case with a faintly purplish crystal, longer than his hand, set carefully inside. It took an hour to verify that each individual case held a crystal, and then the inspector climbed out. Bodhi, feeling a little nervous at the attention and considerably spooked by the reverence the crystals were handled with, swallowed and clasped his hands together.

“You can bring it into Bay 7 for unloading. You’ll be based from here for now. See that base personnel manager for a quarter assignment and material.”

There was no reason for _why_ he would be based from Eadu, but that was usual practice with the Empire. Without an officer’s rank, Bodhi was the closest thing to a civilian one could be in the Imperial system. It also meant he didn’t make choices about where he was stationed or where he went.

Bay 7 had another complement of people waiting for him: two grim-looking men, one old and one on his way there from stress. Two younger people, both humans, stood deferentially behind them. All four of them strode aboard as soon as the ramp was fully down. The middle-aged man dismissed the Stormtroopers and gestured for Bodhi to open the hold.

“The first inspectors took a look at all of them,” he said, hesitantly. 

“Yes, I know,” the man said. He pulled a canister off its shelf and opened it. Unlike the other inspectors, he reached out a gloved hand and pulled the crystal out carefully, tilting it and weighing it in his hand. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny laser, the kind Bodhi’s nieces and nephews used to tease kodkods back home. He shone it into the crystal, watching it split and bounce around. Bodhi, peering cautiously over his shoulder, was surprised to see that the crystal had symbols carved into its sides.

“All right,” the man said. “Let’s get these into the lab.” He had an accent Bodhi had never heard before, sort of gruff and fluid at once. The other three started carrying them out carefully, piling them on a cartdroid that had been brought up into the shuttle. Bodhi went back to the front of the shuttle, to calibrate the compasses and check for updates to the navigation computer.

After the people unloading had left, he left the shuttle and went to look for the personnel manager. She looked at his identification and sniffed a few times. Bodhi hoped that was just her attitude towards everyone and pushed his hair back. He needed to either trim it or get a headband or scarf of some kind. She authorized his card to open a door on a lower level, and to get meals from the mess.

“Orders will come in when they come in,” she said. “Your datapad will alert you.” Bodhi nodded, flipping back the cover to turn it on and check. His schedule was blank, his status listed as “standby.” So he went down to his new quarters to see how they were.

Like the rest of the facility, they were fairly new. There was a certain dampness that seemed to have penetrated the rock, but after the dryness of space, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. There was no smell of mildew. Bodhi set his small bag down on the floor, put his changes of uniform away, and set the holos of his nieces and nephews on the small stand. There were no windows in this room. They would have shown only grey skies, but it was oppressive nonetheless. The feeling of being trapped deep in the ground made Bodhi’s bones ache, longing for the sky already.

The mess was a little better, having tall windows in a row, with a view of the canyon walls and the dark sky. The food was almost void of fresh material, but the bright taste of preserved citrus was better than nothing at all. The personnel all seemed to be science officers and military officers. There was no one else in a flight uniform, except for a group of TIE fighter pilots, in their black jumpsuits, eating in a group. So he ate alone, mentally composing a letter to his brother.

Not wanting to return to his windowless room, Bodhi climbed a spiraling staircase with some vague idea of climbing to a high point in the base and looking over the canyon. On a still day like today, all was calm, but he could imagine that the gorges would shriek in storms. In the narrow spaces and at the edges of the canyon, the winds could become fierce. He was walking down one of the hallways when he came face-to-face with the man from earlier.

“Excuse me,” Bodhi said, discomfited under his faded hazel gaze. He had a severe, closed-off face with the impatient, arrogant cast that high-ranking Imperial officers tended to adopt when talking to anyone.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked, looking down the hallway in both direction.

“I, uh, thought that I might go up and try to get a view of the canyon,” Bodhi explained. “Get an idea of where the major flight hazards are.”

“An admirable goal,” the officer said. “Are you the new pilot?”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “Bodhi Rook, sir.”

“I’m Galen Erso,” the man replied. “This floor is my labs and studios. There are two more levels before you get to the top of the facility. You’ll need to go up by the west side: the east side upper levels are off-limits.”

“Right, thank you,” Bodhi said, nodding. “Thank you, Officer Erso.”

~

He was the only cargo pilot stationed at Eadu. It was a fairly small base: there was a complement of TIE fighters and Stormtroopers, the science officers, and the support personnel for all of it. Bodhi mostly moved back and forth between Eadu and a nearby planet, bringing basic supplies: food, equipment replacements, fuel. Occasionally he would be sent somewhere obscure or far, with an escort of Stormtroopers, to pick up the cushioned canisters and crates that he presumed had crystals inside. Galen Erso and some of his scientists would come down to pick these up every time, checking over each as if they had never seen a crystal before.

“Do you know what’s so special about these crystals?” Bodhi asked one of the Stormtroopers. The trooper regarded him silently for a moment, perfectly unreadable behind his mask.

“They’re called kyber. Don’t know anything else about it,” he said finally.

Kyber. The word was faintly familiar to Bodhi, conjuring up fairy tales. It wasn’t a word, or a substance, that seemed to have any place in modern life. But Galen was doing something with the crystals, studying them. Based on the outsized security for a fairly small team of scientists, it was something secret or something vulnerable.

Galen was another mystery, more intractable than the crystals. He walked around with his shoulders straight and his face set, his eyes always in deep shadow. He rarely came to the mess: instead, someone in the kitchen would bring his food to his office so he could keep working. Sometimes he had visitors so important the shuttle pad was locked down and the officers arriving were escorted by carefully marching Stormtroopers.

Bodhi sent messages to his brother’s family, who all seemed to be doing well. There had been a bombing on the other side of their home planet, some plot of the Rebel Alliance to destroy a shuttle port. The Rooks’ home planet, Corellia, had transitioned from Republic to Imperial control with hardly any fuss, but lately the rebels had been kicking up dust everywhere.

Bodhi had grown up with his parents occasionally muttering about how their Senator didn’t have enough say these days, and how frustrating it was to have troopers patrolling their streets even though Greivous’s army was long gone. But they had said more about how it was important to follow the law and make sure to keep their heads down. Bodhi had taken the advice to heart. It had been harder to sleep when he saw some of the things that happened to the people who protested the Empire: the old Senators had let people publish vicious editorials and march outside their mansions. The Imperial governors were more likely to order the Stormtroopers to fire on crowds than listen, and there were arrests of “dissidents” who did no more than criticize policy.

Still, the Empire ran the schools that his nieces and nephews attended, and he had an Imperial position. And for all that the Rebellion made the news more lately, there seemed no point to resisting the Empire. His niece was taking lessons to learn to fly: she wanted to be a pilot as well. Bodhi wrote to remind her that only Stormtroopers flew TIE fighters, but that he was sure she would make an admirable pilot, and one day a ship’s captain.

Bodhi was still pondering the legacy of the Empire on his way from the mess to his quarters when he nearly ran into Galen Erso. He jumped back, worried that his semi-treasonous thoughts were visible on his face. Galen’s face was drawn and shadowed.

“Mr. Rook,” he said, pausing.

“Excuse me, Officer Erso,” Bodhi said. “I was going to my quarters.”

“On level 8?” Galen asked.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“You can call me Galen,” Galen said. “I’m not much of a military man.”

“Well, you should call me Bodhi, then,” Bodhi replied, stumbling over the words a little, then blanching as he realized he’d encouraged an officer to be familiar with him. It was one thing for Galen to unbend a little, another for Bodhi to treat him in such a familiar way. But Galen just smiled very slightly. It took away a little of the darkness in his expression.

~

After one trip in which an infrequent shipment of fresh produce was loaded onto his shuttle, Bodhi snagged some pears from a crate and headed up to Galen Erso’s office. The fresh stuff would be gone from the mess in a day or two, but Galen never came down. He would miss all of it. Bodhi had taken to greeting him most evenings that he was on the base, and he would like to see if he could lift some of the perpetual gloom that seemed to lie on the man. Why he’d chosen Galen to—well, not befriend, that was too strong a word—associate with, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just that Galen had taken a moment to speak to him, and no one else on Eadu really had.

“Come in,” Galen’s voice replied to his knock. He was sitting at his desk, looking over some blueprints on a large, non-reflective screen. When Bodhi came in, he minimized the view, leaving a background that was simply the Imperial six-ended star, grey on black. Bodhi had a picture of the beach his brother’s family visited on his own datapad, but Galen didn’t even have a single holo on his desk.

“Evening,” Bodhi said. The window in Galen’s office was already pitch black: they were headed into Eadu’s winter. Eadu had a significant tilt, so winter nights were long.

“Good evening,” Galen said, reserved as ever.

“I, uh, brought you some produce from the shipment. I figured you wouldn’t bother to come down to the mess.” Galen pushed back from his desk, raising his eyebrows.

“That was kind. Thank you.” He took one of the pears. Bodhi set the other two down on his desk and backed towards the door, feeling uncertain. Galen frowned slightly. “Here, sit down.” He gestured at a chair next to his desk.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Bodhi hedged. He was desperate for a conversation longer than the ones he had with the Stormtroopers and other tightly-wound base personnel, but the air of exhaustion around Galen made him hesitant.

“No, I insist.” Galen handed him one of the pears when he sat down. It was a little hard, but sweet in his mouth. “I worked on a farm for a while,” Galen said, which was so surprising that Bodhi nearly dropped his pear.

“R-really?” he asked, sitting even closer to the edge of his chair than before.

“Before I came here,” Galen elaborated. His eyes were dark with some memory, but his face was a little clearer. Bodhi wanted to hear more, but Galen set his mouth.

“I don’t even know how pears grow,” Bodhi admitted. That startled a huff that was almost a laugh out of Galen.

“On trees,” he said.

“Oh, yes,” Bodhi said, a little embarrassed. Galen just smiled: under all the frown lines, there were creases from laughing as well. Bodhi, seeing the light in his eyes and the slight sheen of the pear juice on his mouth, felt something warm stir in his stomach, and realized why he was always watching for Galen.

He shifted in his seat. “So, you have enough crystals yet? I haven’t had to pick any up in a while.”

Galen didn’t answer for a while, just looked very intently at him for a few minutes.

“The crystals are just tested here,” he said. “And then sent away again.”

“Oh,” Bodhi said. He had the distinct feeling he was not authorized to know what the crystals were for, and so didn’t ask. “Does the sun ever come out on Eadu?” he asked, for an utter lack of anything to say.

“No, it doesn’t,” Galen said. “But we must persevere nonetheless. But you must see sunny skies from time to time.”

“Yes,” Bodhi admitted. “I was on Malastare, it was sunny. And humid. It’s much worse, dealing with the humidity when it’s hot. It makes Eadu seem so cold and dark, though.” He didn’t have a gift for storytelling, but he tried to describe the port at Malastare, with the swarms of mechanics and pod-racers and the markets full of spices and squashes.

Galen leaned back in his chair and listened until his fruit was done, eyes hooded and as relaxed as Bodhi had ever seen.

~

Bodhi, with a nervous sort of intention, kept bringing Galen fresh fruit when he had occasion to deliver some. Galen, he judged, was too distracted, too bent on his work, to ever catch on to Bodhi’s affections. It tugged at his chest, a sort of sweet ache of longing, when Galen walked onboard his shuttle and inspected the crystals, or when he sat down in his office in the evenings. But it was better than being alone, which was what he was otherwise.

Corellia, judging by his brother's letters, was fully under Imperial control again, after a few more incidents. Someone on his street had been dragged from their home and executed on the sidewalk by Stormtroopers, rather than being sent off to a prison or work camp. His nieces and nephews had seen it happen. Bodhi dwelled on that for a few days, trying to decide what he should say about it to his brother. Galen even noticed, asking him what was on his mind when he ended his usual description of the day’s port earlier than usual.

“It’s nothing,” he said, biting down on his doubts about the Empire. For all Galen’s tolerance—it would maybe go too far to say warmth—it would not do to talk treasonously in front of him. He was devoted to the Empire, working into the night and without taking days to rest. There was, as far as Bodhi could tell, nothing in his life but his project.

“You can tell me,” Galen said, voice measured. He was looking at Bodhi with open eyes. Bodhi just shook his head.

“I have a fuel shipment to get tomorrow,” he said. “So, no fruit, I’m afraid.” Galen looked down at his desk, expression thoughtful.

“You may as well come anyway,” he said. “I ought to bring something, for once.”

So he went, empty-handed, and sat nervously in Galen’s office. Galen was as composed as ever, the lines of his uniform crisp and his hair brushed neatly back. Bodhi had taken to wearing his hair back in a short tail, as it was finally long enough. Galen pulled two heavy clear glasses out of a drawer in his desk.

“This isn’t strictly something I should do in my office, I think,” he said, with a slight smile. “Not very in keeping with the severity of my Imperial station. But then again, I guess you shouldn’t bring me fruit either.”

“Er,” Bodhi said, wondering what would be appropriate to say. Galen just pulled out a clear blue bottle filled with topaz-yellow liquid and set it on the desk.

“This was a gift from a visitor to the base,” he said. “Usually I give the liquor to my team, but I kept this one.”

The paper seal on top was unbroken.

“You haven’t had any,” Bodhi observed.

“No one to drink it with,” Galen said. Bodhi flushed, feeling it in his neck and ears. Perhaps his affection had not been as platonic as he’d assumed, or maybe Galen was just being friendly. Based on the layers of physical paper stacked on his shelves and the worn edges of his desk, Galen had been at Eadu for quite some time. And it was a lonely place. 

Galen poured a small measure of alcohol into each glass, after wiping them out inside with a cloth. He sniffed it with a curious expression on his face.

“I’ve never had this,” he said. “It’s reportedly quite good.”

Bodhi picked up his glass and took an experimental sip. The flavor was bittersweet, like citrus rind and flowers and a bite of something metallic. It was very strongly alcoholic.

“That has a kick, doesn’t it?” Galen said, huffing a breath out. Bodhi took another sip.

“Yes,” he said simply.

They sat in quiet for some time, sipping on the alcohol and listening to the wind howl around the tops of the canyon. The end of winter had brought windstorms, with horizontal rain and intense gusts of wind.

The torrential rains meant that it was impossible to enjoy even the overhung balconies to catch a breath of fresh air. It did mean that Bodhi’s skills as an atmospheric pilot were finally relevant. Taking the shuttle up through the canyon was a trial, and the rain was so heavy that he had to go by memory and the feeds on his instruments. It was a thrill to come out of the dubious shelter of the valley and into the broader, stronger shears of the open atmosphere. His shuttle was relatively maneuverable and after several months, he knew all its quirks, that it yawed to the left in space and to the right in the atmosphere.

 It dated from the first days of the Empire, though, and the day after Galen gave him a drink, when he was putting the engine in the mode to hover and descend onto the landing pad, the thrusters failed to transition and simply stalled. He dropped forty meters straight down.

He blinked awake to find he had skidded close to the precipice. His neck had a strong, shooting pain down the side, and he could feel nothing else. His vision was circling, spiraling all around the cabin.

He woke again in the small infirmary where they did vaccinations with a pounding headache. His neck was immobilized and his whole body was one mass of pain. The medic walked over after a few minutes and sniffed at him.

“You had quite a fall, master pilot,” she said. “I had to cast your leg and part of your spine.”

“Thank you,” Bodhi said sincerely.

“In a few days, you’ll be okay to walk around. Not to fly, but to walk around. There’s a cup of juice with a straw. It’ll be fine if you only move your arms.”

So he passed three days mostly asleep while the medic reknitted his bones, and was released for limited walking around after that. Still sore, he made his way up to Galen’s laboratory with an idea of saying hello.

Galen looked surprised when Bodhi opened the door to his office. Then he frowned deeply.

“What in seven hells happened to you?” he asked, actually getting up and walking over. Bodhi had half-forgotten the bruising on his face. Galen went so far as to touch him on the chin and tilt his face to the side to look at him.

“Shuttle stalled a little above the ground,” he said. “I still have a week before I can fly again.”

“Ah.” Galen seemed to realize something. “So you’ve been confined on level 6 for the last few days.”

“Mm,” Bodhi confirmed, with a nod, then a wince. His neck was still sore. Galen smiled slightly.

“I confess, I was a bit worried I had offended you and you would not be returning.”

“What?” The idea was completely shocking, unthinkable, to Bodhi. “No, of course not—no, I wouldn’t. You wouldn’t offend me.”

“I might,” Galen said, with a smile, but a very serious voice. “Well. I would offer you a drink, a toast to your health at least, but it’s not advised for someone recovering from an injury.”

“And I’ve no fruit, I’m afraid.”

They stood staring at each other for a few moments, Galen’s eyes flicking all over him, from the brace on his leg to the bruises on his face. For his part, Bodhi could only stare at his eyes, the heat in his chest building up to a fire that seemed like it could withstand Eadu’s rains.

~

Bodhi remained posted to Eadu despite the accident, a new shuttle was brought from Alderaan, and he was back to his usual tasks of bringing supplies. Lately, Galen did not receive as many crystals, and seemed to spend more time meeting with the other engineers. Still, he and Bodhi spent most evenings sitting in his office. After Bodhi had recovered fully, Galen took the alcohol out again.

“Selonian rainbow gin,” Galen declared. “There are no rainbows here on Eadu, but we make do.”

“There are rainbows, sometimes, when I come into the atmosphere from sun-side. Just little ones, in the edges of the clouds.” Bodhi took a mouthful of his gin and swallowed, feeling relaxed, or more relaxed than typically.

“The rainbows of Eadu,” Galen mused. “Fleeting and small, but there.” He smiled a little, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know if I can express how important these nights have become for me,” he said, eyes still closed. Bodhi felt his heart thrill cold and hot, drop down into his gut.

“I—I was lonely too,” he said. “I mean, it’s important for me. I like you. I like talking to you.” Neck so hot it must be scalding his collar, Bodhi stopped speaking rather than keep tripping over his words. Galen set his empty glass down and stood up, stepped a pace forward, and took Bodhi’s empty hand. Bodhi breathed out slowly, feeling his heartbeat skip and speed up. He squeezed Galen’s hand back. Galen tugged him to his feet, looking at him carefully. Not for the first time, Bodhi could see an ache of deep, old loneliness in his eyes.

Galen kissed him. He had slightly chapped lips that radiated heat and moved harshly against Bodhi’s. Bodhi breathed in, in shock, and let it happen. Galen’s hands settled in his hair and on his shoulder, gentle, as he deepened the kiss. It was sweet and fiery at once, electrifying Bodhi’s blood and making him gasp against Galen’s mouth. Galen dragged his lips from Bodhi’s mouth to his jaw then neck, scraping his teeth against Bodhi’s skin.

“Galen,” he panted, and Galen pulled them together by hooking his arm around Bodhi’s waist and tugging him forward. Galen dwarfed him: he was taller, and though his face and frame were almost gaunt, he was far broader at the shoulders as well. He smoothed his hand up Bodhi’s back, a bar of heat and pressure and _closeness_ that was so intense, Bodhi had not known how deep the loneliness was.

He got a handle on what was happening and leaned into Galen, kissing back. Galen’s mouth tasted like the gin, clean and neutral, as hot as Eadu was cold. He threaded a hand through the brushed-back hair, feeling his fingers disrupt the gel-tamed order. Galen kept his face clean-shaven, but there was a faint rasp of evening growth against Bodhi’s lips and skin. Hunger was a fire pouring down his spine, made stronger with every kiss, every movement of Galen’s hands on his back and through his hair. His hair had been pulled out of its tie and Galen used it to pull his head back, baring his neck so Galen could kiss his way down to his collar.

Desire made Bodhi groan in protest when Galen finally pulled back, clutching him close to his chest and breathing against his hair. There was no doubt that Galen could feel that he was hard, pressed against his thigh.

“I want,” he gasped, struggling to speak a coherent sentence. But that was enough. Galen kissed him again, deep and fleeting, a brief curl of tongue and lips.

“I want you too,” Galen breathed. But he stepped back, pulled away further. “But I need to finish something.” He stroked a hand down Bodhi’s face. “And…I think it’s better to give it a day. Make sure you’re making a choice you want to make.”

“I am,” Bodhi said, body crying out at the loss of contact. Galen just sighed and bowed his head down, pressing his lips together.

“Come to my quarters, tomorrow night, then. Not here.” He squeezed Bodhi’s hand in his own again, then let it go. Bodhi clasped his hands together and licked his lips, trying to collect himself.

“All right, yes. I will,” he said. He brushed his loose hair back—the tie was gone now. Galen rubbed at his own mouth, not meeting his eyes. A flush had risen in his pallid cheeks. Bodhi left, not without fumbling at the door with shaking hands.

Back in his own quarters, which were cold and dark, he rinsed off in the shower (Eadu, at least, had plentiful water for showering), trying to compose himself. In the small square mirror over his sink, he could see he was flushed and that his lips were swollen, his hair wild. The cool water washed all of it away, until he was his usual neat self. Usually he shaved in the evenings, so his facial hair stayed very short, but he left it tonight, worried that there might be bruises darkening underneath.

He composed a letter to his brother, telling him to report back to his oldest niece that despite the constant rain, Eadu did have rainbows above the clouds and that she should see them someday. He didn’t know when he would have leave, but he would be straight home for a visit when he did. According to the gossip from the Stormtroopers, there had been a resurgence in rebel activity on Corellia since the last quelling. His brother hadn’t mentioned it, but maybe he worried it would sound like sympathizing with the Rebellion to censors. That sent him into worrying that maybe it was much worse than his brother told him.

Despite this, he still fell asleep with a bubbling sense of warmth, remembering the feel of Galen’s hands, the hunger in his mouth.

~

As agreed, Bodhi made his cautious way to Galen’s quarters. He was on level 7, a floor above Bodhi. There were no engineers or officers in the hallway to see him furtively knock on Galen’s door. The door slid open to reveal a room that was significantly bigger than his own, but more spare. Like his office, there were no holos or portraits hung up, no art on the walls. Galen was working on a datapad, still in his uniform even in his own room. He set it down on his desk (neatly arranged, without stray papers) when Bodhi stepped inside.

“You came,” he said gravely.

“Yes,” Bodhi said, feeling as out of place here as he originally had in Galen’s office. Without the loosening effect of the drink, he found it hard to believe that Galen would want him. He hesitated near the doorway, and looked away.

“Come here,” Galen said quietly: a request, spoken gently, but Bodhi had no desire not to comply. He walked forward and noticed that, if nothing else, Galen had taken off his shoes. His black socks were wearing thin at the toes. Bodhi smiled a little at the sight, and looked up to meet Galen’s eyes. He was sitting in a larger chair than was in his office, leaning back with his legs spread out. Lust tasted coppery and strong in his mouth, which dried up in an instant.

Bodhi had been with someone before: a fellow pilot in training, a few years back. That had been a matter of climbing into each other’s bunks and kissing and grinding in the dark. The other man had been his same age, from the same home planet. Galen, sitting with his head tilted back, was a different matter. The light picked out the lines in his face and the silver in his hair. Bodhi went forward, till he was standing at Galen’s feet, looking down at his eyes.

“Come here,” Galen said again, reaching forward lazily and grabbing at Bodhi’s leg. He let himself be pulled into Galen’s lap, legs on either side of his hips. Bodhi bent his head down and kissed him, taking Galen’s face in his hands. Galen put his hands on Bodhi’s shoulders and smoothed down his back, grabbing his ass and pulling them flush. Bodhi groaned into his mouth, feeling Galen hard against his own stiff cock.

“Let’s go to bed.” He whispered it into Galen’s neck, plying his lips over the front of his throat. Galen made a growling sound, the movement in his throat transduced into a shudder under Bodhi’s lips. Then he stood up, holding Bodhi up by the thighs, and walked the few steps to the bed, depositing Bodhi on it by leaning forward until Galen was on top of him. He ran his hands up Galen’s chest, to where the breast of his uniform was fastened closed. Galen undid his belt as Bodhi opened the jacket and pulled it carefully off his shoulders.

“Here,” Galen lifted his upper body enough to lean back and toss it onto his chair, pressing his groin hard in Bodhi’s as he did so. Bodhi arched his back and pushed into it, air escaping his lungs in a hard gasp. Then Galen was kissing him again, and he was pulling the long-sleeved thermal undershirt everyone on Eadu favored over Galen’s head, completely disrupting his hair. He managed to get his boots off, with Galen peeling his layers back and pressing biting, hungry kisses to his shoulder blades and back, pulling his loosened hair with greedy hands.

Bodhi finally clawed the covers on the bed back, kicking the blanket and top sheet down as Galen pushed him onto his back and covered him head to foot with his body. Galen’s frame had a wasted look, as if he should have more muscle than he does. But Bodhi mapped it all with his hands, scratching through the sparse hair across his chest as Galen pushed down against him until their cocks were pressed together, maddening Bodhi with touch without movement. Then Galen’s hand, wet with spit, wrapped around him, inexorable and cool.

It was nothing like doing this alone in his bunk: Galen’s rhythm was slow, his grip tighter than Bodhi’s, and Galen was breathing hard in his ear, muttering nonsense in a deep voice made rough with lust. Bodhi turned his head and kissed him again, reaching down for Galen’s cock with a distracted hand. Galen grabbed his wrist with his free hand and held it down by his side.

“Let me, let me,” he panted, his hips jerking against Bodhi despite his words. “Just—let me take care of you.” So Bodhi turned his hand to hold Galen’s wrist in turn, and let himself get lost in the heated sting and smoothness of kisses and the mounting wet heat of Galen’s tight fist.

He came like a shuttle crash, unexpected and violent, a shout dragged out of his lips. Galen hissed in triumph next to his ear, stopping the movement of his hand.

“Oh,” he sighed, feeling all the sweat on his body chill. After giving him a moment to breathe, Galen rubbed against his abdomen, needy and impatient. “Yeah,” Bodhi said, reaching his hand down to fist Galen’s cock and start stroking. Galen held himself over Bodhi with his elbows, eyes closed, breathing through his nose. His brow furrowed as his breathing picked up. Bodhi put his hand on Galen’s chest, feeling his heart race, and smiled when Galen bit his lip and came, silently, with a face like agony.

They lay in the sheets afterward, Galen’s arm wrapped around Bodhi’s shoulders, thumb stroking the back of his neck. Bodhi closed his eyes and leaned into the intoxicating warmth of lying with another person.

“Do you know what I’m doing here?” Galen asked quietly. Bodhi opened one eye.

“Something important,” he said, remembering the frequent visits from highly-guarded officials. “Important to the Empire,” he added, not liking the way the words rested on his tongue.

“Very important,” Galen said, voice sleepy and slow. He ran his fingers through Bodhi’s sweat-tangled hair. “And yet, here you are.”

The words sent a little shock of fear into Bodhi’s heart, the _yet_ that suggested Bodhi might not care as much as he should about the Empire’s interest. Galen pressed his hand down on Bodhi’s back, over his heart.

“Shh,” he soothed, talking into Bodhi’s neck. “I trust you.” He hugged Bodhi close, putting a leg over both of Bodhi’s. “ _Me._ _I_ trust you.”

“Okay,” he replied, laying his head against Galen’s chest. “Okay, good.”

~

A few nights later, after Bodhi had brought in another shipment of produce, Galen asked him about his family, head on his arm but eyes sharp.

“My brother has a family, on Corellia. I have some nieces and nephews. My oldest niece wants to be a shuttle pilot.”

“Corellia? There’s Rebellion activity there, isn’t there?” Galen still seemed calm, but Bodhi turned restlessly.

“Yes, but he doesn’t write me much about it. It’s safer not to discuss the rebels. Corellia is politically neutral—their senator tries to keep the people as unaffected by the Empire as possible.” Bodhi sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Galen stroked his hand down Bodhi’s cheek.

“And that’s a good thing, to be unaffected by the Empire?” Galen asked softly. Bodhi startled, sitting upright abruptly. Coldness unspooled in his chest and gut.

“I mean—I just mean—that everyday life—I mean no—“

“Do you trust me?” Galen cut across his babbling, his hazel eyes fierce, fiercer than Bodhi had ever seen. Bodhi swallowed, closed his eyes. The cold feeling seemed to have moved into every cell of his body.

“Yes,” he whispered. Galen clasped his shoulder and squeezed.

“Tell me, then.”

“The Empire—I don’t know much about the Old Republic, but—people remember. I think it used to be better. More fair,” he said in a rush, looking down at the bedsheets. “The Empire does evil things.”

There, he was a traitor. It was done.

“I know,” Galen said, the words washing over Bodhi in a wave of reassurance. “I know. You have no idea, even, how evil the Empire really is.” He tugged Bodhi back down, to lie next to him, letting out a heavy sigh. Bodhi did, shaking from the shock a little, trying to process.

“Then…why are you here?” he asked, whispering the question.

“Why are you?” Galen replied.

“I didn’t have much choice. After school, I could pilot shuttles for the Empire or I could starve.” He sighed, looking away from Galen. “I could have starved, I guess. Or joined the Alliance. It just…seemed more sensible at the time.”

“This is another time,” Galen said. “You have a chance. To do what you can against the Empire.”

“What do you mean?” Bodhi asked. There was nothing he could do that could make an impact on the might of the Empire.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” Galen said, this time with a weight behind the words. His hand turned stiff and too tight on Bodhi’s wrist. “I’m building a weapon for the Empire. And it’s nearly done.”

“A weapon?”

“The most powerful weapon ever built. I have a contact in the Rebel Alliance I need to send a message to. But I can’t leave Eadu.”

“But I can,” Bodhi said, realization settling like a heavy stone on his chest.

“Yes,” Galen said. He didn’t ask, just looked at Bodhi with his face that was so haunted and haggard, scored deep with every year of his service to the Empire. Bodhi pressed his hands to his face, trying to compose himself. It would be a simple thing: to deviate from his course, a low-level, unranked Imperial who knew nothing important, who could travel alone since all he did was transport cargo.

He wouldn’t be able to return. He would have to fall in with the Rebel Alliance. He would never see his family again, not to mention Galen. But…the most powerful weapon ever built. What would the Empire, that shot people in the streets in front of children, do with something like that? A weapon that he’d had a hand in, he realized. He had flown the crystals to and from Eadu.

What would it feel like, to live without the nagging guilt that serving the Empire brought with it? What would it feel like, when he was caught and executed? He imagined his last flight through Eadu’s rain.

“Right,” he said, closing his eyes to savor the feeling of Galen’s legs tangled up in his. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He felt the same after saying it: his mind nervous, his heart weighed down. Galen exhaled a heavy breath.

“Thank you,” he said, dragging Bodhi close. “It can be defeated. But I need a messenger.”

“Did you befriend me only for this?” Bodhi asked, feeling his heart clench painfully.

“You befriended me,” Galen said, stroking his hair. “A person with such a generous heart would see the evil around him. You did.” Bodhi lay next to him in silence for a long time, listening to Galen breathe and trying to absorb his heat into his own bones.

“My schedule for tomorrow is just a pickup on Malastare again.” Bodhi kissed Galen, searching for the heart of him, until Galen’s arm came up strong behind him and pulled him onto his back.

“You’re the best friend I could ask for,” he said, tracing his fingers down Bodhi’s chest, then lower. “You’ve saved me.”

After, he held up a small data stick, and dropped it into Bodhi’s boot.

“There’s one man I’d trust. His name is Saw Guerrera, he took care of my daughter after I was taken by the Empire. He is somewhere on the planet Jedha.”

“You had a daughter?” was the only thing Bodhi could think to ask.

“Her name is Jyn…if she is still alive. I called her Stardust,” Galen smiled to himself, in some remembrance. “I can finally make her and Lyra proud. Thanks to you.”

“Saw Guerrera, of the Rebel Alliance. Jedha,” Bodhi repeated. “I’ll be there tomorrow,” he promised, the resolve hardening into a fist in his heart.

“May the Force be with you,” Galen said, a phrase that sounded half-familiar to Bodhi. Something else out of fairy tales.

He looked back at Galen once when he left, at his room devoid of images of his lost family, at his bowed head and tense hands. Something that ached and swooped in his chest trembled and threatened to burst.

~

The rain was falling when Bodhi flew the shuttle out into the canyon, the data disk with Galen’s message pressed against the side of his right boot. There was a slight headwind coming out of the canyon, but he took the shuttle up, higher into the rain, and then into the clouds, setting a course for Jedha. The shivering ache of love he felt for Galen combined with the scouring sense of purpose rushing through him, and the shuttle shed the clouds, then the atmosphere, and jumped into lightspeed under his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know or care if this complies with the EU.


End file.
